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Chantal Andere - Braggin Writes lyrics
This song also appears on "Haze Presents DJ Premier's Reality Check"
 For underground metaphors 
 You can scrape an inch below the turf for what it's worth 
 My style's been developed in the core of the Earth 
 The exhale's volcanic the inhale is seismic 
 So brothers just panic when he Live one arrives with 
 The natural ability to run through your crew 
 From 2 1 4 to 2 1 3 to 2 1 2 
 In other words from Dallas to L.A., to the place where J stay 
 Everyday is mayday 
 So you can talk your trash on how you're wettin MC's 
 with mad blood stains but I'll bet you can't stand the rain 
 I look upon your brain with disdain 
 Go back and reflect on my endeavors black I can't complain 
 It's like a raw deal, consistant with the way I make you feel 
 The ends stay revealed while the means I conceal 
 And those who try to steal get decapitated 
 You wanna snatch my H2O type flow, but it evaporated 
 I displays my credentials over instrumentals 
 And my potential, increases at a rate that's exponential 
 It's detremental questionin my thesis 
 The penetration's exact, like amniocentesis 
 I rip your rhyme to pieces after drainin out your fluid 
 My vocab is fluent yours is evident of being truant 
 I know you wanna make moves but son you best to take a second look 
 Before my knight takes your rook 
Chorus:
 Cause everybody's rappin, and only few can flow 
 So why the hell they tryin to deal with Live I don't know 
 I handle true MC's on their block or at their show 
 So if you come with bull kid, keep it on the low 
 Cause yo, I got the hairsplittin, self-written unbitten style 
 that leaves the competition running scared and shakin in their pants Chantal Andere - Braggin Writes - http://motolyrics.com/chantal-andere/braggin-writes-lyrics.html
 You best to set it off cause black it aint no second chance 
 once I'm open, all you doin is hopin that the Live one 
 will put the mic down, but son don't try to snatch it after 
 The laughter won't cease from the comparison, how dare you son 
 Step around the booth when I'm on 
 The microphone magician says poof, you're gone with the wind 
 There's no trace of your friends cause you don't know where the 
 beginning ends or where the end begins 
 But you see that's the difference, you get sold, I get paid 
 Black I told you, get paid 
 If you're broke I'll have to rain on your parade 
 You belong in Special Ed if you think you Got It Made 
 J-Live with the mic is like the chef with the blade 
 Cause suckers get sliced and sauteed 
 Yeah, you thought your joint was fly but the flight was delayed 
 because 
Chorus: repeat 2X
 Cause yo, I take the grey matter of pretenders 
 through my mental blender, and then return to sender 
 My pen don't pretend to offend 
 I intend to render MC's, hangin loose like a fender bender 
 I recommend regardless of your gender 
 That you strike messin with J-Live from your agenda 
 And remember that whoever lends a helpin hand to defend ya 
 Will get burned to a cinder 
 As I end the, reign of wack MC's with their suicidal tendencies 
 Renderin me sick, with the thoughts of killin enemies 
 But then I return to reality 
 Metaphorically murderin MC's when they battle me 
 You can't rattle me 
 I'm not your average snake slitherin through the grass 
 I surpass the serpent as I head to class 
 You consider me crass as I wax that ass; style's no joke 
 but you best belive I gets the last laugh












